


Only Chains and Broken Bones

by galacticwrites (ssasfreed)



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Bondage, Brutal Murder, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical subject matter, Choose Your Own Adventure, Choose Your Own Ending, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderless MC, Gore, Hi Gato I Hope You Like This!!, Horror, Kidnapping, Murder, Other, Porn, Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Seriously You Die In Nearly Every Ending, Smut, Torture, Violence, also my first upload to AO3, gatobob, gender-neutral, gurobob, this is my first create-your-own-adventure so take it easy on me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 15:11:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12323508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssasfreed/pseuds/galacticwrites
Summary: You met a friendly German man at a bar and decided to go home with him. What could go wrong?





	1. Where Am I?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, this is a choose-your-own-adventure style fic where you (the reader) have been kidnapped by Strade and are in his murderbasement! At the end of each chapter (unless it is an ending) there will be a choice you can make, and each choice will take you to a different chapter. Use the chapter directory to navigate. I will include specific warnings for each chapter in the notes at the beginning, but I will be giving a general warning for the entire fic when I say this contains extremely graphic content, including gore and non-consensual sex acts, and the reader (that's you!) dies violently in most of the endings. If you have played Boyfriend to Death (boyfriendtodeath.com) before, there is canon-typical violence and general horrible acts. This fic is purely for enjoyment and I am NOT encouraging any of the terrible things that happen in it, unless they are done in a safe, sane and consensual way. 
> 
> Strade belongs to gatobob.tumblr.com 
> 
> The title is a lyric from "Broken Bones" by Kaleo. (also the title of my tumblr @galacticgore)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up in Strade's basement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter-specific warnings:  
> \- kidnapping  
> \- knives

You wake up with a groan, head pounding like you have a bad hangover. You figure you might have one, all you can really remember from the night is going to a bar and having drinks with some guy... Strade? You think that's his name. You try to move around, get rid of the stiffness in your limbs, when you feel the rough scraping of ropes on your wrists, and grime under your feet. 

Oh.

You remember flashes now - following him into the alley behind the bar, laughing at his jokes, getting into an expensive looking car... with no handle on your door. His smile as it shifted from friendly to something dark and twisted, followed by a sharp pain.

Your stomach twists uncomfortably and you lift your head, opening your eyes to see a dimly lit room. It looks like a basement of some sort, but has no windows and is only lit with warm fluorescent lights in the ceiling. There are wooden cabinets across from you, with tools mounted on the wall behind them. The floor is filthy and the room has a stench to it that you can't place, somewhere between chemicals and metal. Your heart beats slightly faster, breath quickening in your chest. You try moving your arms again, but they are fastened securely behind you. You struggle a little more, trying to get some grip on the ground with your bare feet, but you quickly find it to be useless, collapsing against the pole at your back, shoulders heaving. Your heart jumps into your throat when you hear heavy thumps and creaking behind you, getting closer. You try to twist to get a look, but only see more tables with tools and other equipment strewn on them. The creaking turns into a slap of hard rubber against concrete, and a man walks in front of you, leaning against the counters and looking down at you with a grin.

"Strade?" You recognize him from the bar. The same greasy hair, friendly smile, and almost militaristic outfit. 

"Ah! Finally awake, are you?" He said, surprisingly chipper. "How ya feeling?" The strong German accent brought you back to your conversation at the bar, lamenting your college woes over a beer.

"Where am I?" Your heart pounds faster, the smile on his face doing little to quell the rising uneasiness inside.

"Don't remember?" He props a hand up on the counter, sticking the other into the pocket of his beige cargo pants. "We were chatting, and I thought to myself, 'hey! I should get to know this person better.' So I brought you home with me!" He smiles wider and shrugs a little.

A tightness wraps itself around your chest, making it harder to breathe. "Is this your idea of a joke? Let me go!" Your voice gets louder and more desperate with each word, nearly breaking.

He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. "So energetic! We're going to have lots of fun, buddy." He pulls out a large hunting knife from his pocket and you reel, pushing back with your feet to try to get away from him. "Normally I'd spare some time to get you comfortable, but I'm feeling a bit... antsy." His eyelids lower, and he licks his lips, stepping closer to you.

"W-wait, no... what are you doing??" Panic is now gripping your voice, and you start struggling again.

"Just trying to get to know you better!" He said, grinning darkly. He stops in arms reach of you, crouching down to be at eye level. He points the knife at your chest, pressing gently, but hard enough that you can feel the sharp point through your shirt. "Are you going to play nice?" 

You gulp, nodding. Anything to stop him from hurting you. He brings the knife up and you turn away, closing your eyes and bracing for pain. Instead, you hear the ripping of cloth and you look down in horror to see your clothes getting torn away. "Hey! Wha-"

"Stay still." The dark look in his eyes freezes you in place, and you can only watch as your clothes are taken apart, leaving you only in your underwear. He nicks you a couple times, drawing a few drops of blood, but you hardly feel the pain under the thumping in your veins.

He pulls away for a second, leaning back on the heels of his boots. He taps the tip of the blade on his lips thoughtfully, looking up and down your almost naked body with an intense stare. "Ah... however much I'd like to use  _this_ on you," he said, waving the knife lazily, "I think I've got something much more fun in store." A cold sweat breaks out on your skin, and you tremble a little, wondering what he could be talking about. He stands up suddenly, and turns to the cabinets behind him, rummaging through the drawers. "Oh this could be so much... oh but what if..." He mumbles to himself quietly, appearing to be torn. 

"Ah! I know what!" He turns around, brandishing a yellow tool with a circular attachment in one hand and some sort of a long metal cylincrical object in the other. "I don't need to choose this myself. I'm sure you're aching to get some control over your... situation." He smiles with a fake-looking pity. "So you choose - angle grinder, or leather punch?" His friendly grin resumes its normal place.

Your heart beats faster, looking between the [two tools](https://galacticlawrence.tumblr.com/post/166248815604/bonus-content-for-only-chains-and-broken-bones) in panic.

 

**You panic for a few more seconds before choking out your answer. "Angle grinder!" (go to chapter 2)**

**The angle grinder looks so brutal... you can't pick that one. "Leather punch." (go to chapter 3)**

**You... you can't decide this! Both of these look like bad options... Oh god, you can't do this... (go to chapter 4)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an easter egg of sorts if you click on "two tools" in the last line before the choices, it will redirect you to bonus content! The bonus content is a choice not offered normally, hope you enjoy.


	2. Great Choice!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You chose the angle grinder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter happens directly after chapter 1, after making the choice 'angle grinder'.
> 
> Chapter-specific warnings:  
> -foot trauma

You panic for a few more seconds before choking out your answer. "Angle grinder!" You immediately regret your answer, as a sinister grin grows over Strade's face.

"Great choice!" He says, laughing. "We're going to have so much fun." He places the leather punch behind him on the counter, and walks towards you, black boots hitting the concrete heavily. You shrink backwards and pull your legs in towards you, trying to make yourself as small as possible. He grins as he crouches and yanks one of your legs out, kneeling on your ankle heavily before reaching for your other leg. You scream and try to kick at him, but he just smiles wider, grabbing your leg as it flails. He holds your leg up at an extreme angle, your knee almost touching your shoulder, with a bruising grip. In his left hand is the angle grinder, and from here you can see that the round attachment isn't a small saw blade, but a pad made of sandpaper. You shudder in relief that he won't be using it to cut your leg off. Your relief is cut short when he presses the button on the tool and a high-pitched hum fills the air. It sounds almost like screaming, and the sudden noise causes you to yelp and struggle more. He lowers your foot so that it is in front of him, and he brings the grinder close to your toes, hovering just above them. It's so close you can feel the air moving around it. You freeze, not wanting to get any closer to that thing, and your eyes grow wider.

"S-Strade, don't do this plea-" Your pleas are cut off by your screaming as he presses the flat edge of the grinder onto the pads of your toes, instantly stripping of them of their skin. You feel the raw tearing of your foot and you shake, trying to pull away. He just grins wider and presses harder into your foot, moving the grinder down so that it's on the ball of your foot. Blood weeps from your wounds and trickles between your toes, over the top of your foot to drip onto your leg.

"Keep screaming, Liebling." He laughs. "It's not over yet!" He pushes the tool further into your foot, sliding it down the arch towards your heel. The grinder starts to slip from the blood that has coated your foot and he frowns, pulling the grinder away and stopping it. You start sobbing when he pauses, leg twitching in his grip. You don't think you can take much more of this...

"Ah... the blood is making is slippery." He sighs unhappily, then perks up. "At least I know to start from the bottom next time!" Next time? Wha- he shoves your abused leg underneath him and pulls your other one out, holding it up like the other one. You feel like you're going to puke, but you start screaming instead, before he even turns the angle grinder on. He looks at you, his eyes wide and wild, a large smile painted on. "Oh, I do love it when you scream for me... You're going to be screaming so much for me, my Liebling." The German surprises you but you can hardly think about it before he presses the angle grinder to your heel, turning it on. Your screams get even louder and you shake uncontrollably, trying uselessly to get Strade off you. Your voice breaks and your chest heaves. Squeezing your eyes shut, you turn away from him and try to move away, but he just laughs at you. He slowly moves the grinder up your foot, skinning it. The areas he has already skinned are raw and exposed, feeling like they are on fire from just the movement of air. It feels like forever before he gets to your toes, and there's a growing puddle of blood that is soaking Strade's pants. He pulls the grinder away and pants heavily, waiting for you to stop wailing. It takes a while for you to calm down, but eventually your screams dissolve into crying and you hang your head. 

He pats your leg and smiles at you. "Come on, don't want you dying of an infection. Let's see those feet." You shudder when he stands up, leaving you to hold your feet above the ground with shaking legs. You don't want anything touching your feet. You open your eyes to see him walking back towards you with a roll of bandages under his arm and a bottle in his hand. He grabs one of your legs again and you let the weight of it rest in his hand, grateful you don't have to support it on your own. He opens the bottle and pours it over your foot. It's alcohol! You scream from the new searing pain, so much worse than the air that you thought was nearly unbearable. He quickly wraps your foot up in a bandage, tearing the end with his teeth and tucking the torn end into the wrappings. He does the same with the other foot, the bandages pulled taut against your open and weeping flesh. You sob again, the rough texture of the fabric painful, but you know it's better than leaving the wounds open to the air, or worse, putting them on the floor. Strade lowers your feet to the ground gently, and stands up again.

"Look, Liebling, I've got something I need to take care of. I'll be back in a bit, so behave." He smiles at you and you glare at him with puffy, tear-streaked eyes. You can't do anything but take shaky breaths. He walks behind you and you hear his boots going back up the stairs, as well as the sound of a metal squeaking and the slam of a door. The lights flick off and you're left in the dark, the sounds of his footsteps long gone. You shudder and wiggle around a bit, trying to get comfortable, and you find that the ropes around your wrists shift a little. Wiggling a little more, your bindings come loose and fall to the floor. You pull your arms in front of you with a gasp, rubbing your sore wrists and wincing. You look around the dark room and are unsure what to do...

**Strade could be back any minute. You should just stay sitting here and pretend to be tied up. (go to chapter 5)**

**You need to find a weapon! When that sick fuck comes back you need to defend yourself. (go to chapter 6)**

**If you could just escape... you've got to try. There's a door behind you, you've got to try to leave this place. (go to chapter 7)**


	3. Excellent Choice.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You chose the leather punch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter comes immediately after chapter 1, after choosing the leather punch.
> 
> Chapter-specific warnings:  
> -arm trauma  
> -light impalement

The angle grinder looks so brutal... you can't pick that one. "Leather punch." He grins happily at you and you feel a little relieved.

"Excellent choice!" He laughs brightly. He walks with a spring in his step towards you, crouching behind you. You flinch away a little, expecting him to stab you. 

"Don't worry. I'm just untying you. You promised to be good, yeah?" He says. You nod reluctantly and stay still as his deft fingers work at the knot behind you. He grabs you by the upper arm and pulls you, forcing you to stand. You wobble, your legs uncertain and half-asleep from sitting for too long. He turns you around and pushes you towards a table with tools scattered on it. You stumble, your hips crashing into it, knocking your breath out. He steps behind you and grabs one of your arms, twisting it behind your back and pressing his body against it. You can feel something hard poking your backside... is he getting off on this?? He grinds his pelvis into you, groaning into your ear, and you get your answer. You shudder with his hot breath on the side of your face, and watch as he pulls a strange metal contraption in front of you. It looks a little like a microscope, with a space for a tool to be slotted in where the lenses would be, and a long handle on the side. He clips the leather punch into place and pulls the handle experimentally, watching the punch quickly strike downwards into the base of the machine. You start to struggle and try to push away from the table with your free hand, but he reaches around you and grabs your arm, guiding it towards the machine.

"This is called an arbor press! It's a fun little tool. Always used it for leather, never for... living flesh." You hear a wet, sticky noise in your ear as he licks his lips. "But now's the time to try new things!" You gasp and struggle harder, but he just grips your arm firmer, and uses his other hand to grab the flesh of your forearm, as much as will fit in his hand. He puts the flesh under the press, holding it and your arm with one hand, the other on the lever. You can't blink or move, only stare in horror as he pulls the lever down, pushing the punch through skin and fat and muscle, all the way through to the other side of your arm. You scream and thrash, broken from your brief trance, but unable to make him stop. He pulls the punch out of your arm and a cylindrical section gets pulled out, flopping onto your arm with a wet plop. The hole in your arm is weeping blood, but Strade doesn't seem to care as he reaches into a nearby drawer, pulling out a length of leather string. 

"W-what the fuck..." You say, your voice breaking with the sobs shaking your body.

He takes one end of the string and aims it towards the hole in your arm. "Just gonna stitch you up!" He says cheerily. You see the leather going through your arm to the other side, coated with your blood. The hole's larger than the diameter of the string, but when he lets your arm go, it resumes a normal shape and pinches the leather. You scream at the sensation, your hand shaking, watching the leather shake with it. He yanks that arm behind you and pins it to your back, pulling out your other arm and slamming it on the table.

"No no no..." You say, fighting against him. You can feel the string moving around inside your arm, and with every press of your arm on your body you swear there's a slick squelching noise. You can feel the blood on your back. He pays no mind to you and puts your other arm in the press, sparing no time to slam the punch through the flesh of your other forearm to make a matching hole. You throw your head back and scream again, the blood spraying over your chest and neck. Strade holds your arm firmly to keep the hole open as he pulls your arm behind you, then takes the other end of the string and threads it through. You're bent over the table, your face pressed into the puddle of blood there. He holds your wrists together in one hand and pulls the strings, the sliding of them through your arms making you sob and squirm. You can feel the hardness at your back twitch against you and you feel sick. He yanks the strings a little bit, the tug on your skin making you cry out, and then he ties them tight so that your arms are as close together as possible, but the skin on your arms is still pulled. He pulls on your hair, forcing you to stand up, and shoves you back towards the pole. You fall down, screaming as your arms are nearly forced apart by the impact. He roughly pulls your body into position so you are sitting with your back against the pole, and uses the rope from earlier to tie your wrists to it again.

You keep sobbing as he crouches in front of you, his hand extending to gently touch your cheek. "Now, how was that?" He asked, his voice almost gentle.

You spit curses at him. "Fuck you, you sick bastard I hope you rot in hell!" You scream, trying not to move for fear of ripping your arms.

"Ahh, so feisty!" He raises his eyebrows in excitement and grins widely. "Unfortunately I can't keep playing. I've got something to tend to, but I'll be right back." He smiles at you and patted your cheek before he stood up and left. You tried to track his footsteps, hearing them go up the stairs and then the slamming of a door, but after that it was quiet. The lights flick off and you sit there trembling in the dark. You find yourself to be hunched in an uncomfortable way, so you shift and find out that the rope hadn't been tied very tight, and was slipping off... you move as gently as possible and it falls off your wrists, leaving you free on the floor, not knowing what to do.

**You're too scared to try anything. Strade could come down here any time... better just rest. (go to chapter 8)**

**You don't care if he comes down here, you'll just find a weapon and be ready for him! (go to chapter 9)**

**You need to escape... NOW. You can't stand to spend another minute in this hell-hole. (go to chapter 10)**


	4. Can't Choose?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You couldn't choose, and didn't answer fast enough for Strade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter happens directly after chapter 1, after you choose not to answer.
> 
> Chapter-specific warnings:  
> -hand trauma

You... you can't decide this! Both of these look like bad options... Oh god, you can't do this... You panic and your breathing picks up pace. 

"Can't choose?" Strade says, looking down at you in disappointment. "That's okay. We can do something else." You take a deep breath, calming down a little. He reaches into the drawer behind him and pulls out a different tool... a chisel? And a mallet in his other hand... oh god no. You panic again, making loud noises and kicking your legs, trying to get away. He just smiles and walks over to you, placing the tools beside him as he reaches behind you.

"I gotta get one of your hands free for this. Stay still!" You freeze to the spot as he undoes your bindings, pulling out your right hand. He ties your left hand to the post behind your back, making it so tight that it cuts off some of your circulation. He pins your hand to the ground under his knee, pressing deeply on your wrist. You wince, feeling the bones there grinding together. You're half leaning into him, watching your hand squirm under his leg from over his shoulder. You can see a grin growing on his face and he picks up the mallet and chisel, placing them over your hand. You close your eyes and whimper, looking away.

**CRACK**

The sudden noise makes you yelp and jump... but you don't feel any pain. You look back over, your breath stuttering, and see that he has moved his hands to reveal a large chunk taken out of the concrete floor between your thumb and first finger. 

"Oh... this'll do nicely." His eyelids lower and he licks his lips, placing the tip of the chisel on the first knuckle on your pointer finger. You squirm as he lifts the mallet high, and you can't tear your eyes away from his arm, flexing as it prepares to strike.

**"Strade no please no I'll do anything please stop" you plead, sobbing. (go to chapter 11)**

**You yank your hand hard, pulling it out of his grip. (go to chapter 12)**

**Ohh god I can't believe he's doing this oh god no no no I can't move... (go to chapter 13)**


	5. Let's Have Some Fun.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You chose to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place directly after chapter 2, after choosing to rest.
> 
> Chapter-specific warnings:  
> -explosives

Strade could be back any minute. You should just stay sitting here and pretend to be tied up. You grab the ropes and put them around your wrists, then settle against the pole. Your feet are killing you - it feels like they've been dipped in molten glass. They feel angry and hot, and the rough bandages send shocks of pain through you every time you move. You resign yourself to keeping your body as still as possible, and try to take a quick rest before Strade gets back. It's difficult to relax, but eventually your eyes close and you are able to take deep, even breaths until you drift off.

**Whack!**

A sudden impact to your feet wakes you up screaming. Fuck... you pant for a few seconds and calm down to see Strade standing above you, grinning. He must have kicked your feet, the sick bastard. He's got the same clothes on from earlier, the same green shirt rolled up past his elbows. Under his arm is a laptop.

"Let's have some fun." He says, pulling the laptop out and placing it on the floor in front of you. "I've got a little something to show ya, buddy!" He opens it, typing something in and clicking around for a bit, before he turns it around to face you. There's a dark screen, some shadows you can't quite make out, and a play button in the center of the screen. He clicks the trackpad and a video starts playing.

On screen, a hand pulls away from the camera. Strade is behind it, his arm coming down and resting at his side. In his other hand is the hair of a captive, who has tears and blood streaked all over their face. He yanks their face closer to the camera. "Say hi for your fans!!" You can't see the grin on his face from behind a black bandanna, but you can hear it in his voice. The captive just sobs. "Time for round two." The Strade on screen drags the captive backwards by the hair, screaming, and reveals the scene behind them. It's the basement. You can tell exactly where the camera would be for this angle, even though the floor and part of the wall is covered in a thick tarp. Strade lets go of their hair and leaves them crumpled in the center of the tarp before he steps off-camera for a second. The captive struggles to sit up with their hands behind their back, but eventually does with their head hanging. Strade re-enters. "Hey, hey, look at the camera. Your audience loves to see that scared look in your eyes." He yanks their head back so they face the camera, but they just look defeated and empty. He holds something out to his captive. "Here. Hold this with your teeth." They open their mouth obediently and bite down on the object, a red cylinder with a wick at one end... A firecracker? Strade pulled a silver lighter out of his pocket and flicked it on. The captive's eyes widen and they drop the firecracker to scream. "No, no, no, my Liebling. We can't have that." He grabs a roll of duct tape and puts the firecracker back into their mouth, taping it over. They keep screaming, but it's muffled now, and their eyes are wide and streaming tears. He flicks open the lighter again and brings it to the wick sticking out at the side of their face. It lights and the small spark starts travelling down the wick. You feel your whole body trembling. Strade is crouched behind the laptop, staring at your horrified expression with a wide grin on his face. The captive on screen is shaking their head, trying to dislodge the explosive, to put out the fire, anything, but it's not working. The spark gets closer and closer.

**You can't blink... can't look away... It's so horrible but you're too scared to move. (go to chapter 14)**

**You wrench your eyes away from the screen and bury your face in your shoulder. You can't watch it anymore! (go to chapter 15)**


	6. What Have You Been Up To?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You decided to find a weapon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter comes immediately after chapter 2, when you choose to search for a weapon.
> 
> Chapter-specific warnings:  
> nothing! yay?

You need to find a weapon! When that sick fuck comes back you need to defend yourself. You pull yourself up so that you're on your hands and knees. You don't think you could walk like this. Your feet feel like they're on fire even with them lifted above the concrete. You crawl over to the set of cabinets and stay kneeling in front of them. You look at the leather punch on the counter warily. Up close, you can see the cylinder and how one edge is tapered and sharp. You shudder thinking of what he might have done with that. You pull open one of the drawers by your face and reach inside carefully. It's a bunch of open boxes, with... screws and nails inside. You close that drawer and open the next one. Handles and metal.. you grab one and pull it out. Perfect. You take the knife and crawl back to the pole in the dark, placing the knife under your leg to hide it, and putting the ropes back over your wrists behind you so it looks like you're tied up. Your heart pounds from the adrenaline and your feet burn, but somehow you relax against the pole behind you. You spend the next while staring in front of you and imagining the different ways you could attack Strade. 

It feels like forever before the bright lights turn on again, and you look down and away while your eyes adjust to the sudden change. You hear the door open and Strade's heavy footsteps as he goes down the stairs. He gets downstairs and then stops suddenly. You look up at him to see him staring at the floor, amused. You look over to where he's looking and- Oh god no. There's blood on the floor. You look down to see that your bandages had bled through long ago. He looks at you and chuckles.

"What have you been  _up to..._ " He follows the blood to the counters and starts opening drawers one by one. You can feel your skin get sticky with sweat and the press of the knife under your leg is all you can think of.

"Th-this isn't what it looks like." You stammer. He just laughs darkly and keeps opening drawers. He gets to one and stops.

"You've been naughty." He said, matter of fact. "This drawer is missing something... and you know where it is." He pulls a knife out from the drawer and walks towards you, his face dark with animosity and rage. The knife in his hand is gripped tight, swinging beside him. Your heart pounds... you don't want him to hurt you.

**"Please, Strade I wasn't going to..." You plead, starting to sob. "Don't hurt me..." (go to chapter 16)**

**You grab the knife under your leg and lunge towards him with a yell. (go to chapter 17)**


	7. Where Do You Think You're Going?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You decide to escape!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This occurs directly after chapter 2, when you decide to attempt to escape.
> 
> Chapter-specific warnings:  
> -broken bones

If you could just escape... you've got to try. There's a door behind you, you've got to try to leave this place. You push yourself up, twisting so you're on your hands and knees. You may not be able to walk, but you're still determined to get out. You crawl to the stairs and slowly go up them, trying not to make the wood creak. You make it to the top and see the door. It looks so much more heavy duty than you though it would be, made of metal with a large handle. It feels heavy too, and you break a sweat trying to open it from your position on your knees. The hinges creak slightly and you pause, cringing. You wait for a little, but don't hear anything, so you continue. You open the door and you see a dark hallway, at one end a living room and at the other a door. It looks like a regular door for a house in the suburbs, which surprises you. The whole hallway surprises you - clean hardwood floors, framed art on the walls. You crawl as fast as you can towards the door, tasting freedom. You're almost halfway there when you hear it - the heavy footsteps behind you. 

Your heart jumps into your throat and you turn around to see Strade, his hair hanging in front of his eyes, glinting in the dark. In his hand is a sledgehammer. After a few seconds of panicking, you start crawling faster, trying to get away. You're just a few meters from the door when his footsteps are right behind you. 

"Where do you think you're going?"

You scream as the sledgehammer smashes through your knee, feeling the bones in your leg shattering. You roll over to clutch at your leg and see Strade above you, preparing to strike again. He swings at you and catches you in the ribs, sending you flying into the wall. You can feel the bones in your chest grating, and it's hard to breathe. You try to gasp for air and you cough, vision swimming with the drops of blood that land on the floor in front of you. You try weakly to pull yourself off the floor, but the pain in your chest and in your leg is too much. You can hardly concentrate enough to turn your head, seeing Strade above you again with the sledgehammer raised high.

"Nowhere, now."

The last thing you see is dark metal rushing towards your face. A sickening crunch, and a brief flash of excruciating pain, then it's over.

**You Died - Strade Found You.**


End file.
